13. Dante #2
I hummed my approval. Salvatore’s presence faded to background noise as I lost myself in Renato’s responses.
Each bob of my head drew louder sounds from his throat.
I varied my technique, fast and demanding one moment, torturously slow the next, then focusing on the tip with hard suction that had him cursing in Italian.
“Look at you taking me so deep. So fucking perfect,” Renato groaned, sliding his fingers through my hair in a gentle caress.
I fed on his reactions, moaning around his length while working the base with my hand in a twisting motion that matched the rhythm of my mouth.
He responded by thrusting harder, testing my limits.
But nothing triggered my gag reflex, not even his thick cock sliding into my throat.
Years of training had eliminated that response, one of the few useful skills Salvatore’s cruel lessons had given me.
“Fuck, and I thought I was good.” Renato’s awe filled me with satisfaction. He warned, his voice strained, “You’re going to make me come too soon.”
I ignored his protest, doubling my efforts. I needed to prove I was even better than him. As he tensed, I slid my fingers into him. He cried out at the sudden intrusion, his back arching off the bed, but I was relentless.
When I curled my fingers inside him while swallowing him to the root, he came with a shout. I didn’t miss a drop, working him through the aftershocks until he trembled with oversensitivity.
“Dio mio,” he whispered, his chest heaving. “That mouth of yours is…” Renato trailed off with a satisfied moan.
His cock slipped free with an obscene sound that made him groan again. I licked my lips, savoring his taste while letting him watch.
The dazed worship in his expression made my competitive streak preen. Few things were better than a client looking at me as if I’d ruined them for anyone else. And Renato looked like he’d follow me into Hell for another taste.
“Can you handle more, Renato?” I asked, my voice rougher from taking his sizable cock so deep and hard.
Reaching down to trace his entrance, he gave me a challenging look that ignited burning lust for him in my veins. “Hurry up and fuck me, Dragon.”
Salvatore turned my fire into ice. “Call him Dante.” He chuckled in dark amusement at my shocked expression I failed to hide. “If you’re calling Renato by his actual name, it’s only fair he gets to address you by yours, boy.”
My Dragon persona kept the authentic me separate from the brutality of Gennaro Corporation. It was why I refused to let Shaw use my birth name during our visits. I needed that wall between Dante and Dragon for my sanity, which was precisely why that sadistic bastard was tearing it down.
Renato looked up at me with a sexy challenge in his beautiful golden eyes. “Make me your prey, Dante.”
Hearing him use my real name triggered conflicting reactions. The sensuous rumble of his voice sent a shudder of complicated lust through me, arousing me despite the wrongness of it. But it also created an intimacy that left me vulnerable in uncomfortable ways.
Being face-to-face with Renato while he used my real name was too intimate. I needed distance, or I’d never get through the experience. “Turn over.”
“Yes, sir.” He forced his satiated body to obey.
Without eye contact, I could breathe again. I grabbed the condom, stalling for time as I rolled it over my hard length. Salvatore’s gaze burned into me, but I refused to acknowledge him. Instead, I focused on Renato, waiting for me on his hands and knees.
I rubbed my sheathed cock between his ass cheeks, determined to lose myself in him. He pushed back against me with a needy whimper. “Please, Dante, I fucking want you.”
I faltered at my name but forced myself to continue. Wanting to draw out the moment, I penetrated him slowly, savoring the tight heat enveloping me an inch at a time. Impatient, he thrust backward to take more.
It spurred me into action. I established a hard, steady rhythm, my hands roaming his body to heighten his pleasure. I forgot everything as I picked up speed and reveled in his responsiveness. My forceful thrusts drove him forward until he had to brace himself on his forearms.
The sound of a zipper being tugged down broke my concentration.
Salvatore was pleasuring himself while watching us.
It was far from the worst thing he’d done to me in that room, but it still made bile rise in my throat.
Needing to escape his presence, I reached down and tangled my fingers in Renato’s thick hair, using my grip to yank him back against my chest.
He groaned at the sudden change, but it was pure pleasure rather than pain. “Oh, fuck yes!”
Tilting his head, I licked up the curve of his neck like an addict desperate for another hit. The taste of his skin made me slam my hips harder into his willing body. I sucked on his earlobe before tugging it with my teeth. His lustful cry rewarded my efforts. “You prefer it a little rough, hmm?”
“Yes. Fuck me harder!”
I shoved him back onto the bed before gripping his hips tightly while pounding into him.
Each thrust drew more beautiful sounds from him.
When he grew too complacent, I slapped his ass hard enough to leave a handprint.
His shout of ecstasy fed something dark inside me.
Having an outlet for my rage after being subjected to Salvatore’s cruelty felt like salvation.
When Renato reached for his cock, I knocked his hand away. I leaned over him, pressing our bodies together as I growled against his ear, “Did I give you permission to touch yourself?”
“Fucking punish me.” When I pulled out, he snarled in protest. “Not like that, damn it!”
I chuckled at his frustration, gripping his erection hard enough to make him curse. “Maybe I shouldn’t let you finish.”
“I’ll do anything you want, so please—” Renato interrupted himself with a strangled whimper when I released him.
“Anything?” The urge to see his face as I took him apart overrode my earlier discomfort. “On your back.”
He obeyed without question, looking up at me with wildfire in his eyes as he spread his legs.
I lifted his hips and plunged back into him without warning. I resumed my merciless pace, loving how each thrust tore another sound from his throat. Through the haze of lust, an idea for his punishment formed. “You can’t come until I do.”
“What happens if I come first?” He arched off the bed with a cry when I hit something deep inside him.
“I’ll never fuck you again.”
He squeezed his dick in a death grip to stave off his release. “Fuck, you play dirty.” The excitement in his eyes told me I’d chosen the perfect threat.
“No, I play to win.” I refocused on pushing us both to the edge.
His body yielded to me no matter how rough I got.
Seeing him spread beneath me, calling my name in his accent, was unlike anything I’d experienced before.
Despite my need to keep Dante separate from Dragon, each time Renato gasped my real name, it pushed me toward my climax.
I was almost there when Renato pulled me down, slowing our pace.
He nuzzled against my neck before whispering in Italian, “Come for me, Dante. Right now. I don’t care what it takes.
Go harder. Use your teeth. Make me bleed if that’s what you need.
I can handle whatever you’ve been afraid to give anyone else.
I’m being greedy, and want every drop of you before you walk out that door and pretend this didn’t matter. ”
Unbeknownst to him, I understood every word, thanks to my birth mother being Italian. His words hit their mark, the forbidden intimacy of my real name on his lips combining with the dark promise in his voice.
I turned my face into the curve of his neck, breathing him in.
His woodsy cologne wrecked me. I dragged my open mouth along the line of his throat, savoring the taste.
When I closed my teeth over the soft skin where his neck met his shoulder, Renato moaned and tilted his head to invite me to take more.
My professional veneer disappeared as I sucked at his skin until he whimpered and a dark mark bloomed. He’d see in every mirror, feel beneath every collar, and remember exactly whose mouth put it there.
It was a claim I had no business making. He wasn’t mine. He never could be. But in that moment, marking him felt as necessary as breathing, and Renato’s needy sounds told me he wanted to be claimed just as badly.
My orgasm ambushed me. I buried myself to the hilt as the first pulse hit, my fingers digging into his flesh hard enough to leave crescent-shaped marks.
My muscles locked up, then contracted so violently I couldn’t breathe.
I’d made thousands of men come, had orgasmed more times than I could count, but it was something else with Renato.
It wasn’t the mechanical release I’d grown accustomed to, the perfunctory conclusion to a transaction.
My body betrayed every defense I’d built, every wall I’d constructed between Dante and Dragon. It was total surrender.
“That’s it,” Renato urged, his voice rough as he clenched around me. “Give me everything.”
I couldn’t have held back if I tried. My hips jerked as a sound tore from my throat, unfiltered and unrecognizable. Not the practiced moans I’d perfected over years of performance, but something authentic that startled me.
The pleasure was almost violent in its intensity, radiating outward from my balls until even my fingertips tingled with it.
I’d always approached sex as a technician, but Renato had demolished that clinical distance.
For the first time in years, I wasn’t calculating my next move or monitoring my client’s reactions.
I was present in my own body, drowning in sensation instead of orchestrating it.
“You gave me everything,” Renato murmured in Italian. “Which means you’re mine now.”